Silk
by flowerpicture
Summary: Stendan kink.


The text Brendan receives from Steven is enough.

_I've been naughty…_

He leaves the club without telling any of the staff where he's going, strides home with his blood thrumming through his veins, his skin overheating.

Steven meets him at the door, fingers twitching around the tie of the bathrobe he's wearing, his skin flushed and eyes heavy, lips parted. Brendan closes the door behind himself, observes him, stomach churning with anticipation.

"Steven."

The sound of his name makes Steven release a knocked-out sigh and he crowds close to Brendan, puts his hands on Brendan's chest and drags them up until he's gripping collar, desperation radiating from him. "I've been naughty," he repeats, the words breathy and low. "I've been really, really bad."

Brendan doesn't ask what he's done wrong. That's not the point of this, and chances are, there's nothing but wicked thoughts. He hums low in his throat and gets his hands between them until he can take the tie of the robe between his fingers and untie it. The robe drifts open in the middle, revealing golden skin and the weighty bulge pushing up against the front of the pink silk panties Steven's tucked himself into.

Brendan grits his teeth and swallows a groan, made even worse by the look of pure innocence Steven's blinking up at him, innocence masking filth. There's already a wet spot on the silk, precome leaking from the dick that's so thick and hard it looks as if it might hurt. He steadies his shaking hands and presses one fingertip beneath Steven's chin, tilts his face up and leans low, speaks an inch away from Steven's plush lips. "You need to be punished?"

"Yeah," he whispers, licking his lips and catching the edge of Brendan's bottom lip with his tongue. His body keens, back arching inwards, and he sucks in a shuddering breath as his naked chest ghosts over the buttons of Brendan's shirt. "Need you to teach me a lesson." He swallows, and he licks his lips again, and then he gasps as Brendan trails a hand low to press his thumb down on a sensitive nipple. "Please."

Brendan's dick is already pulsing with need.

He pushes the robe off Steven's shoulders, lets it fall to the floor, takes half a step back to get a good look at Steven stood naked but for the silk panties. He's so hard and full that the head of his dick is straining against the top of the panties, trying to poke out, precome making a delicious circle of wetness that Brendan wants to suck through the material. But not now. Not yet.

"You know what I have to do when you're bad, Steven," he murmurs.

Steven nods, whispers, "Spank me," then catches his lip between his teeth as he watches Brendan remove his jacket then roll up the sleeves of his shirt.

Brendan hums again, considering him. "How bad have you been?"

"Very." Steven doesn't hesitate. He looks too far gone with desire to even consider playing coy, eyes blown dark and flushed right through his neck and chest. Brendan steps closer to him again, presses his fingertips to the top of Steven's thigh just to watch him suck in a breath.

"These are nice," he croons, trailing his fingers across until he touches the edge of silk. He can feel the heat of him from here. "They new?"

"Got 'em today," Steven attempts, although his voice is strained, eyes pulling shut as Brendan moves his hand across to give the head of his dick the very lightest of touches. He's so _hot_ here, radiating heat, the material damp against Brendan's fingers as he gives a bit more pressure, feels the solid curve of Steven's dick.

He can sense with a delicious thrill just how much Steven's working to keep his body painfully still and tight, arms by his side, dick straining against silk. Brendan traces a single fingertip down the length of him, slow and languid, watching the beautiful agony on Steven's face as he traces back up his dick, all the way to the head, presses down with his fingers so the silk moulds around the hardness of him and Brendan can push pressure onto his wet slit.

Steven lets out a tiny whimper.

Brendan pulls his hand away, Steven's body almost tipping forward in an instinctive urge to follow it. With a smirk, Brendan leaves him standing there and goes into the living room, pulls one of the chairs out from beneath the table and sits down, adjusts himself in his trousers to relieve some of the pressure building there.

"Come here, Steven."

Steven comes, head bowed and arms still by his sides. Brendan takes him by the hips and pulls him in front of him, before turning him so he's facing Steven's arse. "Over the table," he instructs, pushing on Steven's back to make him lower.

Steven bends over the table, hands gripping the opposite end, cheek pressed against wood, arse in the air in front of Brendan. His legs are slightly spread, heavy balls pushing against silk, creating a perfect roundness that Brendan wants to get in his mouth.

He puts both hands flat on the back of Steven's thighs, feels the slight tremble of muscle and anticipation, before dragging his hands up until he's smoothing over the globes of his silk-clad arse.

"Hold still," he mutters.

Then, without warning, he lifts one hand and brings it down again, a sharp, stinging smack against silk and skin. Steven jolts, a hiss turning into a moan as Brendan smoothes over the sting, fingertips catching the edge of silk and sliding under. He pushes one half of the panties across, tucks the material into the crack of Steven's arse to expose one golden, rounded cheek to his view. Then he slaps it, hard and sharp, watches the skin redden under the impact, Steven choking out a groan.

"Good boy," Brendan croons, caressing over the skin. Then he brings his hand down once, twice, three times—a rapid succession of stinging smacks that has Steven keening, the skin blooming red and hot under Brendan's hand.

He dips his other hand between Steven's legs for an instant, fondles Steven's dick to see how much the wet spot of precome has spread. Steven sucks in a long, shuddering breath at the sensation, eyes squeezing shut, and Brendan gives him a stroke or two through the material before releasing him.

He untucks the material from between Steven's cheeks, smoothes it back into place over his arse, tugging on the edges to make it sit pretty and straight. Then he presses one finger down on the centre, pushes against the material until silk meets the twitching desperation of Steven's hole, rubs against it for a few seconds until Steven's whimpering. Then he goes in with his tongue, soaks saliva through the material to get at his hole, slurps at it as best he can with the silk between them, getting it nice and wet, stimulating the nerves of Steven's rim, teasing him.

He makes a "_Hmm_" noise as he leans back to observe the wet patch he's created in the centre of the panties, big enough to rival the slick spreading across the front. Then he dips low to tongue at Steven's balls, held snug and tight in the panties, licks over the swell and sucks at the material, pulling silk and skin into his mouth and laving it with his tongue.

Steven lets out a broken sob.

"Get up and turn around."

Steven does so, legs wobbly and chest heaving, looks down at Brendan once he's stood upright and facing him, his eyes heavy and dark, his lips stained red.

Brendan taps the edge of the table. "Sit," he says, and when Steven hitches himself up onto the table and leans back on his elbows, Brendan shifts his chair closer and grips Steven's legs, lifts them until Steven's got his feet balanced on the arms of Brendan's chair, his thighs spread wide and obscene in front of Brendan's face, rock-hard dick and silk right there for the taking.

The material's slick with precome, his dick straining against it, dark hair escaping around all edges of the panties. It's a sinful sight, and Brendan can't help the small groan that pushes out of his throat, his own dick pulsing up against his fly. He goes in immediately, doesn't have the patience, drags the flat of his tongue all the way up the hard underside of Steven's dick before he reaches the wet head. Then he wraps his lips around it, trapping silk around it, and sucks—sucks _hard_, like he's trying to pull Steven straight through the panties and into his mouth. The bitter taste of precome explodes over his tongue and he groans with it as Steven cries out, thighs locking around Brendan's shoulders, and Brendan sucks and sucks, tongue pressed down on the underside of the head, slurping precome through the material and Steven trying to crush his torso with his thighs.

After a minute of it, Brendan pulls back to see the wet patch of precome is now soaked through with saliva, spread wide all across the front of the panties, moulded around hard, straining dick, Steven panting and keening, his thighs trembling, sweat-slick and hot. He gets a hand on Steven's dick, squeezes around it, drags material up and down the hardness of him in rapid, relentless strokes as Steven sobs and throws his head back and his balls pull up tight.

"Don't you dare come," Brendan warns him, but he doesn't stop stroking, watches with hot fascination as the slick head of Steven's dick peeks out the top of the panties every time he strokes downwards, disappears again as he pushes up, and Steven's whole body is shuddering as he lifts up on his hands and looks down at what Brendan's doing to him, groaning and gritting his teeth, balances on one hand so he can use his other to reach down and grip Brendan's wrist, try to stop his movements, trying to not come.

Brendan pushes Steven's hand away and keeps going, increases his speed, works Steven's dick hard and frenzied through the silk of these panties, watching the wetness spread and bloom as Steven leaks more precome, watching Steven's body lock up and a deep, guttural, primal groan heave out of his chest as he fights his orgasm.

"Don't come," Brendan breathes and Steven sobs and chokes and whimpers, "_Please_," high and desperate, so close to the edge he looks mindless with it, another spurt of precome blooming across the front of the panties and Brendan swoops down, sucks around it, sucks the taste and the material and the head of Steven's dick into his mouth and against his tongue as he keeps stroking low on Steven's dick, short, sharp strokes and Steven's begging, nonsense spilling from his lips as he grips Brendan's hair suddenly, yanks on it, and Brendan knows he's going to have no control over this orgasm in a moment if he doesn't stop—

He stands up abruptly and yanks open his trousers, frees his dick and gives it a few quick strokes, feels the edge of his own orgasm licking at him already. Then he presses the head of his dick to the base of Steven's, feels the smooth slide of silk over his skin, groans as sensation floods him and he presses lower, drags the head over Steven's balls and further back, gets his fingers beneath the edge of the panties so he can tuck them to the side. Presses against Steven's twitching hole for an instant, teasing him, before pulling back, sucking his finger into his mouth to get it wet.

"Don't come until I say," Brendan instructs, dipping his wet finger into the crack of Steven's arse, but Steven's too far gone, barely paying attention, heaving breaths and eyes glassy and he's still on that edge, waiting for Brendan to tip him over.

Brendan pushes his finger into him, as far as he can go, until he feels the swell of Steven's prostate and presses against it, rubs, watches Steven lose his mind with the overstimulation. The sight of it is too much for Brendan, too fucking turned on and worked up, and with a few rapid strokes to his dick, he's exploding, spunking all over Steven's silk-covered dick, coating the pink material in ropes of white, groaning through the waves of pleasure rippling in his gut and spiralling out.

He doesn't give himself time to come down. Moulds his hand around Steven's dick, around hardness and silk and spunk, starts stroking relentlessly as he works his finger deep to stimulate his prostate, Steven's whole body jerking and jolting and Brendan doesn't stop, goes faster, stroking quick and ceaseless and thrusting deep and with a choked-out, bone-deep sob, Steven shatters.

He almost lifts off the table with it, body pulled tight and strung, head thrown back, throat strained, skin burning red and slick. He stays suspended like that for a moment, two, three—Brendan still working his pace, dragging the pleasure out of him. Then he collapses down all at once, shuddering, crying, eyes squeezed shut, hole clenching and sucking around Brendan's finger.

Brendan watches it all with his heart in his throat, slows his movements until he comes to a stop, eases his hands off and away from him, careful not to over stimulate. Then he leans forward to press a kiss to Steven's slack mouth, murmurs, "You're unbelievable," against his lips, doesn't think Steven's in any state of mind to understand him yet.

He gathers Steven into his arms and soothes him down, kissing everywhere he can reach, his dick twitching back to life and blood heating when damp silk brushes against him…

He'll give Steven ten minutes.


End file.
